why do we stop celebrating birthdays when we get to a certain age?
why can’t we embrace our growing older
& be happy to look and be that age?
sure, we still love to wear the latest trends, to try new looks, and styles,
but should we do it to for the sheer desire to feel or look younger?
is that even ‘why’ we do it?
like you, i too have been younger.
looking back, i see now how overrated it was. so why would i want to spend the best part of my life recreating that?
i mean, i hated my body then,
especially my fat thighs and small breasts. but truthfully it was pretty perfect.
i see pictures of mi back then and think,
“dang, i was pretty hot.” yet i had no idea.
i had no scars, stretch marks, saggy skin, age spots, sunspots or cellulite.
yet all i saw, all i showed the world, was an insecure, mediocre, awkward, and shy mess of a person.
i remember not wanting to turn 20
let alone 40.
i didn’t want to get older.
i tried anything and everything to look different, better, cuter, thinner,
whatever i felt would make mi more
loveable, likeable, acceptable.
but then something happened. i turned 50.
i was newly divorced from a near 28-year relationship and i was starting over carrying with mi nothing but faith and unrecognized talent.
with little confidence and even less education, i began my journey of searching, discovering, reinventing.
that’s when i met her.
i quickly realized that although i was alone
i wasn’t lonely.
i liked the company i was keeping.
i discovered a new fresh side of myself, a person i had inadvertently hidden away. perhaps i thought she wasn’t good enough, pretty enough or important enough to be noticed.
why do we stop celebrating birthdays when we get to a certain age?
why can’t we embrace our growing older
& be happy to look and be that age?
sure, we still love to wear the latest trends, to try new looks, and styles,
but should we do it to for the sheer desire to feel or look younger?
is that even ‘why’ we do it?
like you, i too have been younger.
looking back, i see now how overrated it was. so why would i want to spend the best part of my life recreating that?
i mean, i hated my body then,
especially my fat thighs and small breasts. but truthfully it was pretty perfect.
i see pictures of mi back then and think,
“dang, i was pretty hot.” yet i had no idea.
i had no scars, stretch marks, saggy skin, age spots, sunspots or cellulite.
yet all i saw, all i showed the world, was an insecure, mediocre, awkward, and shy mess of a person.
i remember not wanting to turn 20
let alone 40.
i didn’t want to get older.
i tried anything and everything to look different, better, cuter, thinner,
whatever i felt would make mi more
loveable, likeable, acceptable.
but then something happened. i turned 50.
i was newly divorced from a near 28-year relationship and i was starting over carrying with mi nothing but faith and unrecognized talent.
with little confidence and even less education, i began my journey of searching, discovering, reinventing.
that’s when i met her.
i quickly realized that although i was alone
i wasn’t lonely.
i liked the company i was keeping.
i discovered a new fresh side of myself, a person i had inadvertently hidden away. perhaps i thought she wasn’t good enough, pretty enough or important enough to be noticed.
